Touch Poem

This is my poem I did for the topic  this term which is 'Peaceful Play'. The game I chose to write a poem about is touch because it is peaceful and fun to play and also because it is one of my favorite games.

Playing Touch Like A Mushroom Bomb

I stood still on a running spree startled by the ball bouncing in between, backwards, behind and beside me. I caught the ball unaware of the situation I was in. I heard my imagination crystal clear like it was in my ear as it whispered a sound effect that sounded like a *whistle* and a Psh!! Just like a mushroom bomb as the ball fell into my arms. The sun slapped my face as I scored a goal but I felt the pain of the long grass that whacked my legs as I bolted pass.

Everyone wanted the ball as if they were dogs eagerly racing towards a bone like it was the last one in the whole universe. I hurried to the aid of one of my teammates as he passed it to me so I could pass it to someone else so they could have a run. I wandered for a moment in my mind finding a question, who would win at the end of this game?

I wandered around the field searching for the ball as it dropped into it’s nest into my team mate’s arms. She ran eyeing the enemy as he stepped them then BANG! She bumped into the enemy’s shoulder meeting his finger. She passed the ball to me seeing that I was the closest to herself, then I ran for freedom and my life trying not to get touched, I guess my life isn’t worth much since I did get touched.

I kicked the ball as it made a mushroom bomb into someone’s arms luckily the person was in my team. We tumbled towards the goal making history for our team, taking our name into the book of history. Then I chant in my spaced mind,” The harder the battle, the sweeter the victory”. I secretly gasp for joy but audibly trying not to show my happiness.

I feel the pressure whispering into the warm breeze contacting the blazes of the sun reflecting smiles upon it’s face. Pride overwhelms my face as I feel the oppression of me catching the ball as I laid down my head holding the ball as if it’s a baby, then I saw a white line as my feet guided me towards it. All I hear is cheering. all I can see is confetti and a golden trophy intertwined with a name marking its point, all I can blindly see is me past the line, we made it past the enemy borders.